Scream for Me
by Courtanie
Summary: It's Kenny's birthday. What better way to spend it than with a bad scary movie and the opportunity to feel up Kyle?


_**A/N: Happy birthday to Kenny!**_

_**Short story, totally uninspired but need to make something for this day. So here's this crap! :D**_

_**Enjoy!**_

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A lot of people tend to make more than what is necessary of a deal out of this particular day. A birthday. Big fucking deal. For me, it's nothing more than a day of laying around my house, listening to my parents screaming at each other from the kitchen or their bedroom. Another day where I battle with the decision between going outside and risking getting crushed or burned to death or just wasting my time lying in my bed.

Most years, I opt for the bed.

I've never been one for going out and doing things like partying it up for days like this. Too poor. And I don't really mind the quietness of home.

I cringe as I hear a glass breaking in the other room.

Okay, so it's not quiet. But it's home. It's comfortable.

"_You fucking asshole!"_ I can hear Mom screaming.

I let out a sigh and shake my head, mouthing along with my father word for word in his typical response, _"What'd you call me, you bitch?"_

I roll my eyes. Fucking parents. They're too drunk to remember what day it is at all. My mom used to try to give a little extra to me on this day. Sneaking me another Pop-tart or one year even getting enough money to make me a cake. That was the best fucking year of my life.

Well...I guess all my birthdays have been pretty good prior to this one. Usually even if my family is ignoring me, my friends always come and at least visit me. Stan, Kyle, and even Cartman usually pop in and throw a present or two my way, beg me to hang out, then walk away dejectedly when I refuse. Yeah, I still like hangin' out with the guys, but I kinda just like taking the day for myself. Usually.

Last year, the year I turned seventeen, it was a mess. No one could see me. Kyle was off at some college fair in Denver, Stan was playing some sport of some kind. I don't even know what fucking sports he plays anymore. It's hard to keep track. Cartman won't come over on his own and on his own will so it's no shock that I didn't see him. But it hurt.

Kyle and Stan both texted me wishing me a happy day, but it still stung that I couldn't see them. Given I would have told them no when they asked to hang out it still would have been nice to see them to tell them so at least.

I got texts from two of them this morning, each of them in their own way greeting me with a happy birthday.

Stan sent '_Hey, Dude. Kinda hungover but I still remembered your big day! Big 1-8, we're all so proud. Talk to ya later and happy birthday!' _I smirk. Good thing for autocorrect on that idiot's phone or it would've been just a slew of headache-infused misspellings from the guy.

Cartman so lovingly texted '_Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Your house is a piece of crap and hey look you're one, too!" _The ever-loving adoration I receive from that man is enough for me to shed some tears, I swear.

Kyle, however, has not graced me with his over-smiled typical text message. Which is weird considering he's always the first one of us four up and moving and always on top of things. The last few years that we've had phones, my birthday text has always been between 7 and 7:30 in the morning. I glance at the clock on my wall and pout slightly. It's 8 at night. He's missed his cue by a long shot. It kind of hurts. Scratch that, it really fucking hurts. Kyle and I got super close the last two years with Stan running around to tournaments and shit all the time. There's never a day when we don't talk or see each other. It's kinda hard to pull us apart from each other anymore. The fact that I'm missing a message from someone I've come to consider my best friend hurts like a bitch.

I sigh, turning over on my mattress onto my side and curling up slightly. I hear my parents' argument still booming around the house and roll my eyes. They sent Karen and I to bed early so they could argue per usual. Wouldn't want the poor neglected kids to hear their fighting up close, oh dear God no. Kevin's out drinking so he doesn't get the pleasure of a nightly family ritual.

I'm totally cool with that. I have to share my bed with the jackass nowadays so I'm glad anytime that he's gone.

Another dish breaks and I sigh again. Sure, Dad. Break em all. We can totally afford new china at a time like this...

Sometimes I regret telling the guys that I don't want to hang out with them on my birthday. At least the most arguing we get is between Cartman and Kyle. But that's more entertaining than spirit-breaking.

I hear a tapping outside my window and flinch instinctively before turning and looking over my shoulder. I grin slightly. Speak of the red-haired devil...

Kyle stares back at me with a grin and waving from beyond the glass. "Open up, Dude!" he calls to me.

I smile a bit wider. Guess that he didn't miss his cue completely. That's all that matters, I suppose. I roll off my mattress and onto my feet, heading over and pulling up the pane. "What's up, Kyle?"

He raises his brow. "Oh you know. Just in the neighborhood on no particularly special night of any significance to either of us. I just popped by to see if I could borrow some sugar."

"You can have all the sugar you want, Babe," I lick my teeth and wiggle my brows. He rolls his eyes.

"Shut up and take this," he throws a box at me. A familiarly delicious scent invades my nostrils and I look to find a pizza box in my arms.

I lick my lips and look at him gleefully. He throws in a couple more boxes and I see a mess of DVD's strewn over the pizza box. I look back up and smile, "Oh Kyle, how I do adore you and our friendship."

He pulls up a six pack of Coke bottles and puts them on the window. "That's wonderful, now help me inside."

"My heart? You're already there," I bat my lashes. He sighs, biting his tongue in concentration and pushing himself up into my window with some strained effort. I put down the boxes and grab around his waist, pulling him down off the sill. He yelps subtly as he falls into me and I reflexively grasp around him tightly. He looks up at me and blinks as I keep my hold on him and stare back.

"Uh..." he clears his throat.

Whoops. I do the same, pulling off of him and dusting myself off. "Well, you were about to fall," I blurt out an explanation. He just smiles up at me, his lips curving in that adorably crooked fashion as he looks from under his fluffy auburn bangs.

...And by adorably I meant...cute. No. I meant...friends-level of adorable. It was a manly kind of cute crooked grin. I mean it...Really.

So I like the kid a little more than necessary. Sue me.

He brushes back his bangs and continues staring at me. "Ken, do I have something on my face?"

"Uh...no?"

"Then take a goddamn picture, it'll last longer," he rolls his eyes.

I smirk. There's Kyle. "If you insist, but you won't want to know what'd I do with that picture at night."

He raises his brow before just chuckling and shaking his head. Kyle's come to get used to my perverted jokes. In a way, it sucks. He used to blush like a madman when I'd so much as talk about a dick. Now he just tinges with color and laughs it off. Damn him and his adaptable capabilities...

"So on a serious note," I smile back at his laughter, "What's up?"

He stops chuckling and looks up at me again. "Iono," he shrugs. "I know that you won't leave the house today, so I decided that I should bring somewhat of a party to you."

"Ooh, a party for two?" I raise my brow. "Why, Mr. Broflovski, I didn't know that my fantasies would come true on such short notice," I poke his forehead.

He frowns and sighs. "Why do I do nice things for you? You just make it sound like I'm here to suck your dick or something."

"Well we'll let fate make that choice for us, hm?" I grin. Now that the idea's in my head, I can't really say that I hate it.

He scoffs, "Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say."

"Really?"

"Don't get excited, Romeo, I'm just here to chill and watch movies with you," he glares.

"Well that'll work for now I suppose," I stick my tongue out at him. He shakes his head, reaching down and grabbing the pizza box with the movies off the floor. He hands me all the DVDs and smiles again.

"Pick something," he states, grabbing the soda from the sill and walking over, setting the pizza on my bed and the soda on the floor. I look down at the movies in my hand and raise my brow.

"Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

"...These are horror movies."

"Nooo did names like 'Boogeyman' and 'Nightmare on Elm Street' give away my secret?" he scoffs.

"...Kyle, you hate scary movies."

"Yeah, but you love em," he shrugs. "I think I can handle them for one night, Jesus."

"Kyle you pushed your TV out of your room after we watched 'The Ring'," I remind him. "You wouldn't open your laptop for days."

"Shut up, that was like...two years ago."

"Try three months."

"Shut up!" he snaps. "Just pick a damn movie and I'll be _fine_," he drawls.

I sigh and shake my head. Damn kid's too fucking stubborn...I look at my options and hum in thought. "'Halloween'," I announce. putting the others on the floor. "It's not too scary and I can forewarn you before the actually scary parts."

"Kenny, I don't need you to hold my hand," he frowns.

I laugh, heading over to my small television and turning it on, kneeling down beside it. "Please, Kyle, don't lie," I state. "When we were watching 'Ring' you flipped shit and it took me three hours to stop you from hyperventilating. Admit it, you're a wimp."

He growls, sitting on my bed cross-legged and scowling, "Ken, shut the fuck up, I am not!"

"Lies, Kyle, lies," I chuckle. He snarls again and I just laugh, putting the DVD in the player and walking back over towards him and plopping down beside him on the bed. I grab the large stack of pillows Kevin and I use to separate the both of us on the bed and put them behind Kyle and I. We lean back and sigh contently together as the menu comes up on the screen. The trademarked music starts up and I can already feel Kyle tensing from his seat.

"Ky?"

"I'm fine!" he says harshly.

"I was gonna ask for a soda, but now that you mention it...I can not start the movie and we can watch something else. I have some pornos stashed in my closet," I shrug.

"Okay, one, no," he frowns, handing me a soda from beside him. "I've seen you after you watch porn. You want to hump anything that moves and I do not want to be in your path."

"You know you do," I nudge him with my arm.

"Two," he ignores me with a glare, "I can handle some freaking seventies movie."

I sigh again and press play on my remote. "Okay," I say doubtfully. "In advanced, if you pee in my bed, you clean it, capiche?"

"That won't be an issue."

"Whatever you say," I snort, opening the pizza box in front of us and grabbing two slices. I hand one to him and the both of us lean back again and sigh.

Ten minutes pass and he's already practically squirming in his seat. I look over and raise my brow. "Kyle?"

"I'm fine."

"Uh huh. You're freaking out."

"Well...I mean...the kid!" he gasps. "Why'd he...he stabbed them! He's a kid!"

"Kyle, it's a movie," I assure him. "Just a dumb movie, okay?"

"Right," he gulps, sliding down slightly and taking a small nibble of his pizza. "Just a movie," he whispers to himself. I shake my head. His tactic of doing that never works. I lightly nudge his foot with my own and he licks his lips mindlessly. "I'm fine," he states monotonously.

"Sure," I nod, throwing my pizza crust into the box and stretching slightly. I sigh, leaning against my pillows and watching the movie in boredom. I've seen this thing a million times, I know everything that happens. I glance to my right, seeing Kyle sitting straight up attentively, nibbling at his food with a degree of apprehension. I smirk. He's always a fun one to watch these movies with. He doesn't puke like Stan and he doesn't get ideas for copy-catting like Cartman. He just squirms and makes cute scared noises.

I can't help myself. I have to have some fun with this. It is my birthday after all; I'm entitled to it.

"Don't worry too much, Ky," I sit up after a good while and sigh. "It's not that scary."

He gulps, his shoulders tensing slightly. I throw my arm around his shoulders and he bites his lip, his eyes watching the screen carefully.

"Hey, it's okay," I assure him. "He doesn't even show back up until he kills someone. Well...after he stalks Laurie a bit," I say.

"Stalks?" he repeats looking over at me.

"Yeah, you know. What Cartman does to you sometimes," I smirk as he cringes in disgust. "See him?" I point as a shot of Michael Myers is shown, staring from behind a clothing line. He disappears and Kyle flinches.

"He...how'd he..." he bites his lip, putting his crust into the box and scooting back against the bed, bringing my arm with him.

"He's a monster, Ky," I say lowly. "He just wants his victim."

"Only...only where they are...right? Only in Illinois?"

"Well, yeah," I nod. "But then again...there could be one of him here, too," I shrug. "You could be friends with his victim and well...end up one of them," I gesture to the screen where Laurie's friends are shown.

"Do they-"

"Die? Oh yes, horrifically," I say dramatically, desperate not to laugh at the look of terror passing over the kid's face. I really should not be having this much fun with this situation...but I can't help it.

We continue watching the movie, me stealing glances at him every-so-often. I love that about Kyle. He's fine with trying to beat people up, with dealing with the worst of situations at every turn. Turn on one of these shitty horror films though and he's pure putty. It's rare to see him truly scared. Only Stan and I have had that honor as of yet.

I'm milking the hell out of this cow.

Another half-hour and another three slices of pizza disappear between the two of us. Kyle's eyes don't leave the screen and I smirk as he bites his lip, his fingers twisting around nervously as we watch Annie leaving the house to go to her car.

"Is she gonna die now?" he whispers.

"Oh jeez...I forget," I lie, watching him and barely able to contain my grin. I count down the seconds in my head until the sudden piercing sound of the attack rings through the air and Kyle shrieks in the way that he does, jumping in surprise and winding up against me. He grabs my shirt, closing his eyes as the sound of Annie struggling to fight off being strangled to death fills my small bedroom. His fingers clench around my t-shirt and I watch him in surprise. Usually it takes more before he grabs onto me for comfort. He's really edgy tonight...

Best birthday ever starts now.

"Dude," I say, "I just had the weirdest thought."

"W-what?" he gulps, still closing his eyes.

"You...could be Laurie," I gasp.

He shoots his green eyes open and stares at me in shock. "W-what?" he asks. "Whaddya mean?"

"Well I mean...Ky...you're the smart, innocent virgin!" I say, as though it's a huge revelation. To be honest, it's been stewing in my mind for the past forty minutes. "Stan is your best friend," I slowly state. "He's involved and more social than you. He dies first. And I'm the pretentious flirt like their other friend. So I'd be next."

"I...I don't wanna be the target," he bites his lip.

"Don't worry, you'll be safe," I squeeze him. "Till the sequel at least," I shrug. "Then you're screwed."

"Sequel?" he yelps. "He...he lives?"

"Dude, 'Halloween' has like, six sequels or something," I smirk. "You didn't know that?"

"I-I...I didn't...oh Jesus," he shuts his eyes again, hiding his face against my shirt as the sound of panicked screaming rocks around the room. I hold him against my form and smile at the ceiling. Thank God for shitty horror movies.

"There, there, Kyle," I coo, reaching up and petting his hair. "He's just a character in a movie."

"Psychopaths are real though," he says, looking up from my shirt towards the screen just as Myers pops out of a closet and stabs Bob. Kyle lets out a legit scream and hides his face back into my shirt.

At this point, I'm caught between guilt and pure amusement. He's fucking adorable like this. I watch him as he peeks to the side from behind the cloth of my t-shirt, slowly rubbing my hand up his side. I love this. I love this much more than I should. Any other time I so much as try to think about touching him like this, he punches the hell out of me and we go about our days.

This is why I didn't want to go outside and risk dying today. Fate wanted me to feel up terrified Kyle.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

He curls his legs up in front of him and I can feel his rapid heartbeat and shivering against me. I continue running my hand along his side, watching him and smirking. A part of me wonders just how scared he is and how much I can get away with before he goes apeshit on me.

I slowly move my hand back down towards his hip, slowly sliding my hand up his shirt and continuing to rub his waist. To my surprise, he doesn't so much as flinch. He just keeps against me, watching the television warily with wide eyes.

The sound of screaming is still echoing around my room, and I can hear my parents nearly matching that of the movie in emotion. It's somewhat irritating to an extent, but I'm more than happy for Jamie Lee Curtis' screams right now. Every time she freaks out, Kyle does with her; Jerking in shock and yelping softly.

"You wanna turn it off?" I ask him out of politeness. I already know his answer, but I don't need him figuring out that my motives are less that that of making sure that he doesn't have nightmares for the rest of his life.

"N-no," he stammers. "I'm fine."

"You're shaking like a crack addict, Kyle," I reply dryly, squeezing his waist in my palm softly.

He moves against me more and rests his head against my chest under my arm. "I'm fine," he gulps. "Have...have to finish."

"Well I'm glad to know that you have that determination to finish things. It'll come in handy in the future," I smirk. I await his angry retort, pleasantly surprised when I don't get one.

We watch the climax of the movie, watching Laurie running around like a goddamn maniac screaming for help. My focus right now though is on Kyle's fingers. They're curling around my shirt repeatedly, he's practically stroking my skin to keep himself calm. He sniffles softly, shifting and sitting up a little straighter against me. His hair brushes over my nose and I smile, leaning our heads together.

This child is lucky that he has pants on right now. If we were ready to go to bed and in our boxers God only knows what'd I do.

I can feel his heightened breathing and awareness and watch him a bit, staring at the way that his front teeth bite lightly on his lip, turning it a darker pink than the rest of the thin skin.

I'm not paying attention to the movie at all when a loud bang and scream startle us both. I quickly recover but Kyle starts shaking uncontrollably. "He...he doesn't die?" he whispers.

"No," I shake my head. "But it's just a movie."

"Just...just movie..." he gulps.

I bite my lip, really wanting to try something. I don't want him to kill me, but he hasn't yet and I've been feeling him up for nearly an hour.

What the hell, it's my birthday. It only happens once a year.

I lean forward, planting my lips against his temple before pulling back slowly. He looks at me with wide eyes, his green iris' ablaze with questions.

"You...you um...what..." he blinks.

I smirk, my eyes going half lidded before I press my lips against his neck, feeling his rapid pulse under my touch. I feel him shudder and pull back just barely. "Shh," I whisper hotly against his skin. "Don't be afraid."

Whether I meant of myself or the movie...that's for Kyle to decide.

He continues shaking as I trace my lips over his skin again. We lock eyes as I pull back a bit and I look at the clouded confusion glazing over his stare. Another scream comes from the movie, but he doesn't so much as flinch, too busy staring back at me.

Well hello, I found the cure for his little phobia. Go me.

"Ken?" he asks, blinking at me. I don't respond back, trailing kisses up his neck and chin and feeling him shaking. "Ken what're you-"

I put my finger against his lips and smile slyly. This is too perfect.

"No more being afraid," I say gently, nipping at the skin under his ear lobe. He lets out a shaky breath and I rub my hand over his back under his shirt. I grasp his hips in my hands and hold him still as I continue brushing over him with care.

"Ken..." he gasps out as I bite at the crook of his neck. His fingers clench at my shirt as I continue pushing my teeth into his skin. His heart is beating faster and I doubt it's from fear of a machete.

A scream from the movie rips out of nowhere and his head is turned back towards the screen in shock. I grasp his chin, pulling back from his neck and turning him to look at me. I lunge forward, pushing my lips brutally against his. He yelps in surprise, falling back slightly until I catch him. I open my eyes, finding wide green eyes staring back at me with a glow of shock and confusion about them.

He may be confused, but he's not fighting back. I think that's an okay in my book.

I watch his eyes slowly sliding down, closing my own and leaning up and over him, still attached to his lips. The sound of gunshots from the TV evade our ears, but Kyle's hands don't give their telltale terrified twitches. Instead they even out, spreading his fingers and sliding them along my shirt. I feel my own surprise and shock beginning as he wraps his arms around my back, his fingers intertwining into my shirt once more and holding me against him. I smile against his mouth, poking at his lips with my tongue until they reluctantly part and I can slide in past his teeth. He lets out an airy breath as I move to the side overtop of him and start leading him down onto his back.

I push him back down onto the mattress and move my hand out from under his shirt and slide it up his torso. I reach back and under his neck, pulling him up closer towards me. His arms thread up around my own neck and hold on tightly as we make out, our pulses radiating between the two of us in an insane, synchronized tempo.

Minutes pass between us, the moment stretching into what I would consider to be my own form of Heaven as Kyle lets me thrust our tongues together as he holds onto me tightly. He takes some initiative of his own, swirling his tongue in an eager, if somewhat unexperienced manner.

Just the way I thought he'd be.

My ears perk at the sound of that familiar music and I slowly, and somewhat unwillingly, pull up from his lips. His eyes creak open and he looks at me with one of the most innocent looks I've ever seen on that pale face. His lip is red and somewhat swollen from my suckling, his cheeks coated with that heavy blush that I've come to miss.

I grin crookedly, "Movie's over," I tell him softly.

He looks at the television then back up to me and blinks. "I...I...Why did...What the fuck, Kenny?" he finally spits out.

I shrug. "Made you feel better, didn't I?"

"Well I mean...not that it's any of your..." he blushes deeper and I laugh, leaning down and brushing over his nose with my lips. I get off from on top of him and fall down beside him in the bed, propping my head up in my arm and staring at him with a lopsided grin.

"Just lookin' out for your best interests, Ky," I tell him. He crosses his arms self-consciously, staring back at me.

"I never gave you permission to do that," he mumbles.

"Never told me 'no' either," I shrug. "C'mere," I gesture, putting my arm overtop of his chest and pulling him towards me. I let my arm propping me up fall and I end up with our noses only inches away. He stares at me before his lips twitch into something like that of another smile. I wink at him, pecking his forehead lightly. "I won't let the big bad monsters get you."

He smirks at me shyly and shakes his head. "You do realize how backwards this is?"

I cock my head. "How so?"

"Aren't I supposed to be giving you something today?" he raises his brow.

"Well...there is one thing I can think offff," I sing, grinning widely.

He frowns. "Try it and I swear to fucking God I'll kill you."

"Just kidding," I smirk, poking him. "That can come later. Like, tomorrow."

He rolls his eyes and sighs. I watch him a bit before I can't help myself. I pull him into my chest and he lets out a soft yelp of surprise. He stares at my chest for a long while, gulping before looking up into my eyes and smiling softly. I grin back and squeeze him lightly.

I'm waiting for his big questions, waiting for him to demand an explanation...but a good look at his eyes tells me that I'm not going to get interrogated tonight. He seems exhausted. I'm sure that'll all come tomorrow out of nowhere in the form of his little Jewish rage.

I can't really say that I'm not looking forward to it in some sense.

We both close our eyes and lean into each other, letting the sound of the music from the TV fill the air. A few long moments of silence waft between us and I smile. Best birthday of my goddamn life.

"_You son of a bitch!"_ my mom's piercing scream comes into our area, followed by a loud cracking of glass.

Kyle flinches a bit but calms down. I open my eyes, staring at the wall with drooping eyes. I'm sick of that. One of these days, I'm going to lose it from them fighting. One of these days, we're just going to end up a broken family. I don't want it to happen, but it will. Not even my birthday can escape the wrath of my parents' everlasting hatred of each other...

I feel pressure on my neck, looking down and finding Kyle kissing me softly. He looks up at me with a crooked smile, his bangs falling loosely over his eyes. "Don't be scared," he whispers.

I watch him in shock for a moment before I realize who I'm talking to. Kyle's my best friend, he knows when I'm upset.

I just sigh, tightening my arms around him and nuzzling into his hair. "Thanks," I whisper.

He pushes his head into the nook of my neck and breathes warmly against me. Our knees rest against each other's as we lounge across the bed, letting the moments of quiet thought between the two of us pass by.

"Still scared?" I ask him.

"No," he shakes his head. "Thanks."

"I'm more than happy to do this anytime you're scared," I smile to myself. "Or sad. Or happy. Or angry."

"I'll keep that in mind," he chuckles. He lets out another sigh and nuzzles against me subtly. "Thank you."

"Anytime," I pat the small of his back a bit.

He pulls back his head, kissing my lips softly and smirking. "Happy birthday."

I smile warmly, his words feeling real, like this day has some kind of real meaning now. I sigh and shake my head to myself. Perhaps that's a tad overdramatic, but either way, I feel happier than I have in quite some time.

Happy birthday to me.

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_**A/N: How do I manage to fail at ALL the boy's birthday stories? :|**_

_**IT IS A TALENT I DECREE.**_

_**Anyway. Thanks for R&Ring!**_


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